


GO!

by DemonRat-translator of Teufelsratte (somerandomwritingstuff), somerandomwritingstuff, Teufelsratte



Series: We Want To Break Free (Freddie Mercury voice) (English translation) [1]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Original Work
Genre: (i just hope neither my laptop nor ao3 delete this before saving AGAIN), (sort of), Death, Demon, Gen, Possessed, Possession, crazy priest, mentions of good omens characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 18:17:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20394064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somerandomwritingstuff/pseuds/DemonRat-translator%20of%20Teufelsratte, https://archiveofourown.org/users/somerandomwritingstuff/pseuds/somerandomwritingstuff, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teufelsratte/pseuds/Teufelsratte
Summary: Everyone always says that friendship is beautiful. The best thing that exists. That’s because it is. But is there really a “friendship forever”? Is the sentence “We will always stay friends” true?I used to believe in this. I believed Marco and I would always stay friends, that nothing could ever separate us. He always made me laugh and then nearly destroyed me. Sometimes I miss him and fear him. Times change, and so do people. But what always stays is pain, and his last sentence that still haunts me.This story has been inspired by Good Omens, since my best friend (hi) (and translator into english) started calling me a demon ever since (it's true).It contains references to the Good Omens main characters, but otherwise doesn't have much to do with Good Omens. (The next parts of the series will have more to do with Good Omens though.)





	GO!

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [GEH!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20389042) by [Teufelsratte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teufelsratte/pseuds/Teufelsratte). 

> hi there, somerandomwritingstuff here, i'm officially translating this from and for my best friend Teufelsratte (literally: devilsrat)  
i'll translate all his works, author's notes, tags (the english ones in his german originals are from me so people can find and filter them)  
my own author's notes will mostly be indicated by stars * or by me saying hi, stuff in brackets is usually mine, too  
whenever you see a bracket in italics, that's an addition by me for non-german readers  
the longer explanations can be found in the end notes and are shown by stars *  
some of those will just be me loving or hating language sometimes, telling when something got lost in translation, or even just happen in translation  
but enough of that blabber have fun with the story:

Everyone always says that friendship is beautiful. The best thing that exists. That’s because it is. But is there really a “friendship forever”? Is the sentence “We will always stay friends” true?  
I used to believe in this. I believed Marco and I would always stay friends, that nothing could ever separate us. He always made me laugh and then nearly destroyed me. Sometimes I miss him and fear him. Times change, and so do people. But what always stays is pain, and his last sentence that still haunts me.

It all began, or rather ended, on a sunny day 64 years ago. We met in Kassel. It was a spontaneous meeting. Yesterday in the evening, he texted me, and this morning, I replied (typically me, always late #Crowley). I waited at the train station. Not for long. After three minutes, the train was visible (WOW. The train came after me for once) and after another one, it stood still. The doors opened, and Marco got out. With a wide smile I hugged him as a greeting, as usual. But he didn’t replicate the gesture. I didn’t think anything of it. He probably just wasn’t in the mood.

“So, where do you wanna go?” I asked. I was never good at deciding anything.  
“Let’s just walk for a while,” he replied with a near expressionless voice.  
“Okay.” Now I was a little unsure. It had already been five minutes and there was not a trace of a joke (normally, he joked five minutes before the arrival already).  
We went towards GameStop. We liked looking around there.  
The first traffic light was green, the next one became green as we reached it, and as the third traffic light immediately went green, I was astonished (when there’s something abnormal in the city, it was green traffic lights).  
Marco seemed to sense it and just said in a sing-song voice: “A whole green wave.” *  
I had to laugh and his face showed a smile, too . He “invented” this song during another meeting in Kassel.  
When we arrived at GameStop, I searched the ds games as usual. I saw Pokémon Ranger: Guardian Signs. I reached out for it and called out: “Marco, look! That’s what I wanted to get. Now we can fina-”  
“You don’t have to,” he interrupted me with a firm voice and grabbed my wrist. A cold shiver went down my back. His hand was cold. This, too, he seemed to sense. He took back his hand, turned around, and added: “I’ll give you mine, I don’t need it anymore.”  
He left, and left me perplexed. I left the GameStop, too, without buying anything.  
Marco waited outside. “Why don’t you need yours anymore? Besides, we need both to play together,” I asked him.  
“I haven’t played _ this game _ in years,” he pronounced the word ‘game’ full of scorn, “besides,” he added, “it’s your birthday soon.”  
He went, and I followed.  
He didn’t look for any games in the store. That was weird, as he really liked playing PS3 (in fact, he spent his whole life in front of it).  
But I didn’t say anything. Maybe he just had a bad day.  
We went on and soon arrived at a church. We sat down on one of the benches. I rummaged in my backpack and got out the cookies.  
“You want one?” I asked. Marco just shook his head.  
I ate a cookie. “More for me,” I announced, happy that I didn’t have to share my food. He was my best friend, but when it’s about food, I don’t share with Anyone.  
“You’ve never liked to share your food. It’s a miracle you’re still this thin.” (No, Aziraphale didn’t have anything to do with it (probably))  
He laughed quietly. There he was. The happy, joking Marco.  
We sat there for a while, told each other what happened since we’ve last seen each other, joked around (mainly Marco told the jokes), and reminisced.  
The cookies were empty and it was time for Marco to leave. I wanted to put the empty cookie package into my bag, and saw the green notification light of my phone. Someone messaged me. I checked the message and my smile immediately vanished.  
  
“Ria, something terrible happened. Marco got hit by a car four days ago. He died immediately. The burial is tomorrow at one pm. Can you come?”  
  
The message came from Marco’s mother.  
“You coming?” Marco asked, still smiling.  
“Yes,” I replied shortly.  
My thoughts overlapped. He couldn’t be dead. He was here? But he had been so cold the entire day.  
I couldn’t stop myself anymore, I had to ask.  
“Marco!” He turned around. His smile was the same as always. “Your Mum says you’ve had an accident.”  
His smile disappeared, and made room for a darker look.  
“You’re dead, she says, and you’ve been so weird the entire day. What’s-”  
He grabbed me by my collar, and pressed me against the church’s wall. Only my shoelaces still touched the ground.  
“You’ll tell NO-ONE what happen here today. Yes, I’m Dead. But my soul still suffers in agony.** I became a demon, just like we always joked.”  
His voice was grave. It wasn’t his, it wasn’t even that of a human anymore. He WAS not human anymore.(***)  
“You’ll go to the burial tomorrow?” It didn’t really sound like a question, rather an order.  
“I’ll be there.” His face neared my ear, and he whispered: “Go to Heaven!”  
In the next moment, he was gone. I leaned at the church’s wall, incapable of moving an inch. The shock was too much for my body.  
For at least half an hour I stood there and stared into the nothing. I had to process what just happened.  
Tomorrow at one pm. I’ll be there.  
  
I was already in Morschen _ (a German village about 40 km (ca 25 miles) from Kassel) _ at eleven am. His mother was completely upset, and I didn’t tell her what happened yesterday. She probably wouldn’t’ve believed me anyways.

We talked until about half past noon. Then we left. The cemetery wasn’t far, so we arrived five minutes later. The whole family was there, and I didn’t know everyone. I kept looking around, searching for Marco. But all I could find was his corpse.  
A bit later, we all sat down, and the priest began to speak. I couldn’t listen. I looked around again. Where was he?

A scream got my attention. "WHO ARE YOU? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?" the priest shouted terrified and whirled around. 

"NO. That is not true. LEAVE ME ALONE!" He took one of the burning candles and held it protectively in front of himself. He frantically looked around until his gaze stopped at the corpse. 

"He must be destroyed!" he whispered and threw the candle into the coffin. The corpse burned, the room was full of horrified screams. Incapable of moving, I sat on my place, while the chaos got bigger and bigger. 

The priest took a broom that leaned against a wall, and wanted to stab the corpse with it. But now, he was stopped by the furious family members. Again and again, he shouted: "GO BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME FROM, YOU HIDEOUS DEMON!" 

"Beautiful, this chaos," a voice close to my ear whispered. Shortly after followed a growling laughter. He was behind me. 

"I told him where HE belongs. Go to Hell, I said, and more."

He paused. A small whimper. A tear dropped onto my shoulder. 

"Go," a short silence, "to Heaven."  
A cold wind on my back broke the paralysis and I turned around. 

Noone was there. Only the wall, and the emptiness in front of it. 

Now I'm lying with my 84 years on my deathbed, and the memories are returning after this long time of oblivion. The deciding moment was just around the corner.

Marco's last words. "Go to Heaven!"

Was it prophecy or wish? 

Was the tear of sadness, never to see me again, or of despair? 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> What do you think?  
Was it a wish or a prophecy or maybe even something else entirely?  
Tell me in the comments-
> 
> The rest of the series will be about the work of the demon Rotar (rotten rat).  
It will go on soon...
> 
> (hey there, somerandomwritingstuff here, have the stars:
> 
> * “A Whole Green Wave” in the original, it was “Das ist die perfekte grüne Welle”, based on the song “Das ist die perfekte Welle” (that's the perfect green wave and that's the perfect wave, respectively), but neither the song nor the genre of the song are known outside of germany, so i had to change it to this  
** “But my soul still suffers in agony.” that was so sad to translate because the german literal translation of agony would be hell's agony (höllenqualen), and it lost the hell completely in translation, even though it's such an important part of it  
*** “He WAS not human anymore.” that made me so happy when translating, it was the perfect doctor who reference and entirely unintentional, as the original didn't work out as close to the doctor who quote, but got translated into this, and since the original author hasn't even seen doctor who, but that translation made me so extremely happy  
(yes, what do you want from me, i can't read it without getting the song stuck in my head either)  
but again, enough blabber, i'm not keeping you from the comment box anymore, have fun commenting :D (btw, Teufelsratte would like to know how he's doing with stories, and he appreciates any kind of feedback!))


End file.
